


Tastes So Sweet

by thesockmonster



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, improper use of a kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesockmonster/pseuds/thesockmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yifan loves watching Yixing bake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes So Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [huangjinguo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/huangjinguo/gifts).



> This is totally huangjinguo's fault. No macarons or baking utensils were harmed in the making of this fic.

There’s almond flour on Yixing’s cheek, probably from when he’d brushed the hair from his face with the back of his hand earlier. Yifan thinks it’s cute. Of course, Yifan thinks everything Yixing does is cute, so his view may be a little skewed. He sighs happily, leaning his elbows on the counter - a safe distance from his boyfriend - and cradles his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to get scolded for getting in the way again. The last time, Yixing had whacked his stomach with a spatula.

Yixing is making macarons. He’s been working on perfecting his recipe for white chocolate raspberry macarons for over a week now. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to taste. It means that whenever he gets the time, he’s in the kitchen, ingredients spread over the counter and an apron tied around his neck, concentrating on a recipe that he already has memorized. Yifan is convinced Yixing could make macarons in his sleep by now.

Still, Yifan watches. He watches the way Yixing’s tongue pokes through his lips as he sifts the confectioner’s sugar, the way he cocks his hip when he reaches to plug in the electric mixer. It takes Yixing eight minutes to whip the egg whites and sugar, his little dragon-shaped timer ticking down the entire time. Yifan watches this too. The way the muscles in Yixing’s biceps flex as he moves the mixer around the bowl, the look of concentration on his face, the way his teeth scrape temptingly over his lower lip over and over again, all drive Yifan absolutely crazy.

Yixing is hot, but when he’s being ridiculously sexy without meaning to be sexy, it’s Yifan’s downfall. Watching his adorably hot boyfriend folding the mixture of flour and sugar into the egg whites isn’t the oddest boner Yifan’s ever gotten because of Yixing. He’s used to it.

He trails his eyes down Yixing’s body, his dark gaze lingering on the swell of Yixing’s butt in his jeans. His thighs look just as delectable, just as mouthwatering. Yifan wants to taste. He wants to bend Yixing over the counter as the bowls and cups of ingredients scatter to the floor. He wants Yixing to scream his name as Yifan teases and toys with him until he comes apart.

Yifan shifts on his feet, reaching down to adjust his dick.

Yifan has also learned enough about making macarons that he knows he’s going to have an opening soon. Yixing has the pink dyed batter poured into a piping bag, and he leans over the pans to pipe the cookies. It won’t take him long. After Yixing has them prepared, they have to sit for half an hour.

That’s thirty minutes. Yifan swallows, impatient as Yixing creates pink circles of batter on the parchment paper. He has thirty minutes to utilize before the macarons need to go into the oven. That should be plenty of time.

Yixing is working on the second pan when Yifan moves. He’s careful as he walks up behind Yixing, feigning interest in what Yixing is doing as he gently rests his arm around Yixing’s waist, laying his chin on Yixing’s shoulder. Yixing shifts a little, allowing Yifan to cling as he continues without pause.

Yifan molds himself closer to Yixing, nearly groaning when Yixing suddenly moves back a little. His butt pushes right against Yifan’s dick and stays there. Yixing is completely fixated on his macarons, and Yifan, well . . . Yifan is fixated on trying not to grind himself on Yixing’s perky backside. Yixing wouldn’t be happy if his macarons were ruined.

Yifan is left dealing with the ache in his cock as Yixing finishes, finally standing up straight to slam the cookie sheets on the counter. Yifan easily releases Yixing, watching the sway of his hips as he grabs the timer and sets it for thirty minutes.

“You know,” Yixing begins once he sets the timer down, “you’re not that subtle.” Yixing’s eyes flicker down to where Yifan’s dick is bulging against the seam of his pants.

Yifan merely shrugs, unashamed. “It’s a completely natural reaction.”

Yixing laughs softly. “That pops up a lot when I’m _busy_.”

“You’re not busy _now_ ,” Yifan says, stepping toward Yixing. “We still have twenty-nine minutes.”

Yixing raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“I’m up for it if you are.”

“Clearly,” Yixing chuckles, tilting his head toward Yifan’s dick. He walks the rest of the way to Yifan, hands running up his chest before he drapes his arms over Yifan’s shoulders. He raises to his toes, a beautiful smile on his handsome face. “If you ruin my macarons, I’ll end you,” he threatens sweetly. “So if you’re going to do something, I suggest you get started.”

Yifan has to carefully avoid any of the counter that Yixing is using, maneuvering Yixing back until they’ve found a clean space. And then, he finally gets a taste of what he’s been craving. Yixing’s mouth falls open as Yifan kisses him, a low moan filtering into the open space of their kitchen. Yifan loves kissing Yixing. He has the perfect mouth for it. He could spend hours just rolling the plump swell of Yixing’s lower lip in his teeth, pulling the most delicious of sounds from his boyfriend.

Yixing isn’t that patient; his roaming hands are already under Yifan’s shirt, teasing as low as he can without unbuttoning Yifan’s pants. One hand moves further, cupping Yifan’s cock through denim. Yifan rocks into it, groaning as Yixing sucks on his tongue. He’s never been embarrassed at how quickly he gets worked up with Yixing. After all, it’s completely Yixing’s fault.

Yifan tugs the bow on the back of Yixing’s neck loose so his apron falls to hang at his waist. He unties the rest of it and kicks the apron away so he doesn’t step on it and lose his footing later. Yixing’s head tips back, his lips now swollen and glistening from Yifan’s kisses. Yifan uses the opportunity to tug Yixing’s shirt up and off, tossing it in the opposite direction of the macaron trays.

“I love it when you get like this,” Yixing breathes, his fingers curling in Yifan’s hair as Yifan trails kisses down his neck.

Yifan hums, refusing to pull his mouth off his boyfriend. Yixing’s chest is heaving, and there’s a faint blush that’s spreading down from his neck. Yifan grips Yixing’s waist, pushing him against the counter as he lowers to his knees. From this angle - staring up at Yixing - Yifan gets to see the way Yixing’s eyes flutter closed, and the contraction of his stomach muscles when Yifan runs the heel of his hand up the bulge of Yixing’s cock through his pants.

He only does it once. They have a time limit. He’s quick to shimmy Yixing’s jeans and briefs to his ankles, his eyes focused on the prize. Yixing’s dick stands proud and thick, ready for Yifan to lavish with attention. And he plans to do just that. With his hands secure on Yixing’s thighs, Yifan leans in to swipe his tongue over the crown. Yixing shudders, biting his lip out of habit, and Yifan does it again.

Yifan wets the tip of Yixing’s dick thoroughly before he moves down to pay attention to the shaft. He keeps his eyes open, looking up at Yixing as he bobs his head over the length of Yixing’s cock. Yixing does moan this time, his ragged breathing loud and his grip on Yifan’s hair tightening. Yifan doesn’t have the time to tease, nor does he have the patience.

Yifan knows that Yixing prefers his blowjobs fast and sloppy, so that’s what he does. He relaxes his jaw and runs his hands around to the backs of Yixing’s thighs, urging him to move forward. Yixing’s hips rock, burying his cock in Yifan’s mouth before pulling back and doing it again. He picks up a brisk pace, although he doesn’t go as deep as he usually does. Yifan breathes heavily through his nose, his cock throbbing enough for him to reach down and palm himself through his pants.

Yifan feels like he could combust. He works his jeans open with one hand, moaning loud when he finally gets his fingers around his cock. He’s been hard for too long. Yixing’s gaze flickers down to where Yifan is holding himself; Yifan isn’t jerking himself off. He’s just touching enough to ease the ache. When he comes, he wants it to be from Yixing.

Yixing thrusts faster. Saliva pools in the corners of Yifan’s mouth, running down his chin, and he loves it. Yixing uses his mouth to get off, the pulling on Yifan’s hair almost too painful, but it’s worth it. It’s always worth it. Yixing’s body curves so beautifully, his moans increasing in volume as he works his hips. Yifan knows he’s about to come, and he suctions his lips around Yixing’s cock, tonguing along the shaft until he does.

Come floods Yifan’s mouth. He can’t catch it all, but he doesn’t care. It dribbles down his chin, some hitting along his lips when Yixing leans back too far and his cock falls from Yifan’s mouth. Yifan swallows, leaning forward to catch the rest on his tongue. Yixing tugs on his cock until he’s finished, slumping against the counter behind him.

Yifan is on his knees with a hand around his dick and come all over his face, and all he can do is grin. He beat the timer.

“Come here,” Yixing says with a soft laugh, helping to pull Yifan off the floor.

Yixing nuzzles his face into the curve of Yifan’s neck, replacing Yifan’s hand with his own. Yifan’s knees nearly buckle from the sudden rush of blood to his legs _and_ the feel of Yixing’s talented fingers running up and down his cock. The slide is nice and smooth, Yixing’s strokes perfect as Yifan holds onto the counter behind Yixing to keep from falling. It doesn’t take much time at all for Yifan to come all over Yixing’s fist and stomach, dripping down to the floor.

It’s another minute or two before Yifan can move, and when he does, it’s only to shuffle to the side so Yixing can go wash his hands. Yifan lazily stares at Yixing’s ass, offering a helpless shrug when Yixing catches him, rolling his eyes. Yixing busies himself with using a warm rag to clean Yifan’s face too, laughing when he Yifan nips at his thumb when it gets close to his mouth.

The timer goes off, and Yifan nearly jumps out of his skin. The macarons are ready to be put in the oven. Yifan watches a naked Yixing grab the trays and slide them inside. He takes the dragon timer and sets it for twenty minutes.

“Bonus round?” Yixing inquires as he sets the timer down. “I bet I can get you off first this time.”

“You’re on.”


End file.
